The Roommates
by trevorthetoad69
Summary: Part One. Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean finally come to terms with their teenage needs, which often arise simultaneously. Hermione finds a place to satisfy her urges. Draco tries to find his place in it all. This story contains mature content, is entirely made up by me, and is in no way authorized, or officially connected to the original works.


The roommates.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and even Neville, all agreed to abide by the rules of the game. They'd all eventually did it together when Neville completely forgot the last part of the incantation for silencing his bed curtains. They had heard him slosh, moan, and spurt. From then on, the scene was set for more fun and games.

…

Neville was sat upright on his bed, the curtains rippled in the cool night air, which entered the dorm room through the side window Dean left open after they came in from quidditch the night before.

…

He remembered Dean distinctly exclaiming, "We all smell like a trolls bollocks! Let's get some fresh air in here before I hurl!" He threw the window open before stripping off his robes and throwing them into the corner of his space. All around the room, robes flew against the walls and the teen wizards stripped to their boxers (of course, Neville wore tight-fitting briefs, and Ron bore something that looked like it used to be tight fitting, but through years of use (and abuse) they sagged into what appeared to be boxer-briefs that were a size and a half too large, and horribly faded nonetheless). Never mind the fact that they all could have scrubbed their robes clean in an instant with a flick of their wands; they all enjoyed the camaraderie of being sweaty and bare chested in a space they could call "their own." The robes helped add to the ambiance.

With a scoff, Ron threw a laugh Neville's way,

"Hey, Neville! Nice shorts! Ya get those from your nan?"

The boys erupted in fits of laughter, as they usually did when someone took a shot at Neville for his attire. It was always something after quidditch practice. What they didn't know, and what they would eventually find out, is that Neville's briefs were always so tight because he was hiding a fairly large piece of endowment, even before the use of an _engorgio_ charm, which was familiar to all boys at Hogwarts. Unfortunately for Neville, he had no idea how he compared.

Neville, feeling bold, retorted,

"You should be one to talk Firecrotch! At least my knickers didn't have to put up with the strain of all my brother's cocks!"

This got a roar of approval from the lads, trumping the volume of Ron's previous sling. But, it had the added effect of turning Ron a deep shade of purple, which always made Neville's stomach do a bit of a backflip.

Ron sat down in a thump on his bed, piles of clothes cushioned his hard landing and a few socks scattered to the floor. They soon showered in turn, in the decent, but small, bathroom off to the side, closest to Ron's bed, and returned to the main room, with warm hardwood floors and an at-one-time-nice-and-clean oval rug that had since accumulated a number of stains, and a few burn spots from some careless operation of Fred and George's newest concoctions. Again, the young wizards could have easily remedied the damage (save for perhaps a few of the Magic fire-crackers that seemed to leave permanent scorching, no matter how Fred tried to change the formula), but housekeeping matters were of least concern to the lot.

…

Neville couldn't help but think of the last time he cast a silencing spell, the curtains seemed unwavering from the inside, and he didn't remember them flowing with the wind, even when Harry suddenly bolted into the bathroom leaving a gust of air from his rapid closing of the door. He wondered quietly to himself if he'd said the incantation correctly. His worries were quickly pushed aside by the throbbing between his legs. He was sat upright, legs crossed underneath him. He liked this position best because of the way he could flex his thighs and make his cock stand even taller. If you could look at him from the front (and often, he would place a mirror in front of him so as to see the view I'm about to describe), his cock head stood well above his belly button. Sometimes, if he was feeling extra frisky, he could bend his back just enough to get the tip, and half the shaft, past his lips and safely into his wet mouth, pressing his tongue firmly under his foreskin and swirling it around his head. Although, when he did this, he usually couldn't stand the pleasure for long.

He had often taken a load into his mouth to stifle his noises before Professor Flitwick taught the first-years how to silence things.

…

He remembers the look of disapproval as the Charms Professor looked pointedly around the room at the boys in the class and instructed that the spell was not to be used to, "further one's self enjoyment," but was in fact for, "serious matters only."

Neville wasn't yet into masturbation (or rather, he didn't quite know how to do it yet), so his confused look remained, until he peaked in on Dean's bed one night to ask if they'd had any homework in Potions.

…

"Oy! Neville! Bugger off!"

exclaimed an irritated Dean who was moments before working his wand hand up and down his slick cock.

Dean had just been given some of Fred and George's "experimental" _Salamander Slick_, which was meant for creating extraordinarily slippery pools of invisible slime on the floor, which allowed the pranksters to watch oncoming students suddenly flail around, as if standing on ice.

The twins had told Dean, with knowing smiles, to "try it out," with a wink and a soft knee to the groin area. After all, it was still in the "testing stages" and they couldn't flat out ask their brother to try it without turning five shades of red themselves. Dean obliged and was continually rewarded for disclosure of "test results" with a newer, more slippery, less slimy, and more invisible version of the _Slick_. Dean was happy with the twin's progress, and Fred and George were elated with the results, stifling snickers each time Dean gave a _full_ report (as required in order to "qualify" for the next batch of goo) of the results.

Neville looked dean up and down, lingering on the rod between his legs. Neville thought it looked a bit small, but was in fact quite average (if not a tad on the large side). Dean's dick was glistening in the moonlit room as Neville pulled back the curtains to get a better view. Dean hurriedly pulled the curtains out of Neville's hands and squeaked,

"Would you leave me alone! Go play with your own wood if you're that hot and bothered!"

This brought a giggle from the not-yet-fast-asleep Seamus nearby. While Harry said to Ron under his breath,

"Good thing we never do all of the Potions work, otherwise he might'n have bothered us!"

Harry then proceeded to squeeze another drop of pre-cum from Ron's flaming cock head. His hand brushed through the Ginger's bush, which was a shade redder than the hair on his head.

Ron elbowed Harry in the ribs to shush him, and leaned over the side of Harry's bed to make sure the curtains to his own bed were still tightly sealed, a spell placed on them for good measure to give the appearance of Ron actually sleeping.

The duo figured it wouldn't be prudent to let the rest of the dorm mates in on their secret just yet. After all, it was harmless play. They were just giving one another a helping hand.

Neville left Dean's bedside red-faced and disheveled, but climbed into his own bed and stripped his knickers off, to see if he could find out what all the fuss was about.

…

Neville didn't cum that night (unlike Harry and Ron), but right now his balls were pulled tightly against his body, so much so that they ached.

The rest of the boys had been listening intently, they were all sat on the oval rug playing wizarding war (a common card game that could turn sexual with the addition of a few rules, but was so far benign.

They all covered their mouths to hide their snickering, as they each glanced around the circle at each other, Neville unaware that the sounds of his stroking were filling the small dorm room. They had gone on playing cards as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Each of them had secretly been waiting for this moment.

They had all "helped" out one another, in pairs, at one point of another. Soon word got round between them of who was yanking who, and what each other looked, and sounded, like. By word-of-mouth, it was known, but unspoken, that they all were wankers, and that they all had no problem with wanking each other.

…

Most of the time, it would be after quidditch practice. Harry would always be hard before they got into the Griffindor common room. Quidditch just seemed to get the better of him. Something about the cool wind rushing all around his body as he wisked through the air with grace and poise. When he landed after a practice, it was always useless to try to hide.

At times his tented robes would draw a comment or two from the Fat Lady's portrait on their way in.

"Oh! Have a nice _hard_ practice again on the field?" "You boys have a nice night _together_!"

They would always redden and quicken their steps through the frame, but what they didn't know was that the Fat Lady had used the same line numerous times over her years. The Griffindors were notorious for tomfoolery. Especially the girls

Ron would position his cock straight up and down, barely held in place by the worn elastic of his drawers, and would end up with a wet spot on his t-shirt before they got up the stairs to their room. His shirt always clung to his torso, laced with wetness from the previous practice.

Dean was notorious for free-balling. His cock and balls always slapping against his thighs as they walked. Oftentimes he would spread his robe and slap Seamus in the back as they walked, which would start a tussle between the boys as they walked out of the quidditch dressing rooms.

Seamus, when not egged on by Dean, would push his member out of his fly, and let it flail around. He wasn't as daring as Dean, who had to keep his robes firmly clamped around him when they were practicing in the air. However, Seamus always managed to do a midair barrel roll below Dean's line-of-sight, and coincidentally let his robes flap open while his pecker was in various states of arousal.

Neville never liked to practice; his ariel skills left much to be desired. Neville often was in charge of letting the practice snitch free. But practice did not lose its effect on him, he was always particularly excited when his mates would wiz by at high speeds. And he swore he could make out Dean's cock when a heavy breeze blew past.

Neville had an unusual fetish, he would always wear a muggle condom over his cock before going with the boys to the field. As the others were flying above, he would stroke himself with his hand hidden beneath his robes. The rubber quickly became slick with his juice, slopping up and down his hard cock. As soon as Harry gave the signal for Neville to release the snitch, Neville always forcefully came into the penis hat, and then opened the box containing the snitch with a satisfied grin. To him, he was climaxing at the command of Harry, and it was his own little game of erotica. He would usually vanish the remnants away before the boys landed at the close of practice, but every now and then he would leave one for the Slytherins to find, who sometimes took to the field after.

He swore he saw Draco pocket it once, after a swift look around.

…

The boys would sneak off together in various pairs, with laughter and jabs to the side. Ron and Harry, and Dean and Seamus were the most frequent pairings. But, Harry had gotten off with Dean and Seamus separately and together, and Ron with various combinations of boys, all involving Harry. Never had the four of them been together all at once. But meetings were quickly leading to that inevitable scenario.

They'd discovered a small nook in the library by accident one day, that was large enough for two, but tight enough to ensure they'd be pressed against each other. They stumbled backwards against some bookshelves when Harry came like a fountain. They had been using the invisibility cloak to hid their escapades, which had become stained and cleaned many a time over the years.

This time, Harry lost his balance as Seamus gripped his cock savagely, repaying Harry for the last time he made Dean nut on his transfiguration homework. Seamus stroked Harry's upward pointing member hard and fast, using spit to lubricate his motions. Seamus kept one hand on Harry's exposed chest, pushing him away with one hand, and dragging him closer with the other on his cock. The skin on Harry's penis moved up and down over the erect tissue beneath. Its warmth heating the small space under the invisibility cloak. Harry's glasses were tilted on his face, his hair looking a mess as always. His strong knees began to buckle under the pleasure. Seamus grinned and increased his pace. Harry's mouth opened as he shot a glaring look at Seamus. He mouthed,

"Don't you dare!"

Seamus, encouraged, moved his hand from Harry's chest, to Harry's arse. He fingered around the entrance to Harry's hole, and Harry's stomach contorted. He came with such force, that it was audible as his semen splashed against the tightly knit fabric of the cloak. Loud enough to make a few first years turn and stare at the blank space they occupied. Then, without warning, Seamus pushed Harry's chest backward, in attempt to get him to fall out of the cloak, into view with his cock at attention, and his hair coated in cum.

Harry fell, but as soon as his back slipped out of the cloak, he pushed into the bookcase, and landed, with his back against a wall as if he went _through_ the bookcase. Seamus looked in amazement. It was like he had slipped through platform 9 and 3/4, but it was through a bookcase in the middle of Hogwart's library. He was confused.

Seamus was even more shocked because, out of the bookcase, sticking straight out, where Harry had just disappeared, was Harry's cock. Still hard, and dripping with cum, Harry's cock was staring at Seamus, who was still under the invisibility cloak. He laughed, under the cloak, and caught the attention of the first-years, who looked utterly puzzled by the cock. They rubbed their eyes as if the get a better view of what they thought they were looking at, but couldn't possibly be looking at!

Before they could focus, Seamus hurried through toward Harry's cock, and landed through the bookcase, into the alcove inside.

The invisibility cloak slipped of behind him, his face planted against Harry's, and Harry's cock now pressed up against Seamus' naked waist.

The two stood that way for at least a minute, before speaking in hushed whispers.

"Where are we?" Asked, Harry.

"No idea." Responded Seamus. "Maybe, it's like the room of requirement, but for shagging?"

Harry stifled a laugh.

"It looks artificial, as if it's not always been a part of the castle." Harry observed.

There was hardly space for two in the alcove. It was as if someone had torn open a bookshelf, and squeezed a room inside. It was odd to say the least, but, quite cozy.

They both noticed their cocks at the same time. Harry's had grown again to full attention, pressed up against his own slick spread over Seamus' bush. Their rods were interlocked with one another, spewing pre-cum.

Harry moved first, always the horny one. Because they were ever so tightly pressed, Harry only needed to wiggle. Instant pleasure shot through the two. Seamus responded to Harry's movements with his own. The two of them, forgetting they were in the library, ignored trying to be quiet. They groaned involuntarily as the sensation of each other's hard cock on their own was too much to handle. Harry's foreskin would be pulled down by Seamus' movement, and pushed up again by his thrusts. Seamus was cut, but the sensation was still immense. They bucked against each other for over a minute, but given Seamus' previous state of arousal, it was long enough. He came first, with no where but his spew to go but up, it landed hard against Harry's face. It splattered against his glasses and coated his lightning-shaped scar. Harry grunted, and exploded seconds after Seamus started. Both of them pressed against the others hot, sweat laden body.

They were dripping in cum.

Harry laughed first, and Seamus covered his mouth in fear, realizing they were in the library. He motioned with a finger to be quiet. Harry looked around, and found an opening between two books that created a window. A window out into the library!

In a panicked movement, Harry clambered over Seamus and went to move the books closer together to shield their hiding spot. His hand met resistance. Solid. Like glass, but textured like stone.

They examined the space. It had been magically created to act as a one-way window out, without being able to see in. This was some advanced magic.

From then on, they'd found their spot. They would frequently return in pairs until one day, they discovered who crafted the private space.

It was lined with books, contained a small, plush, leather couch, big enough for one, but cozy for two, and steamy for three.

There was also one book that was accessible from the inside, only one. It has no title, and glinted pink when it's edges were viewed from just the right angle.

When they were between the shelves, they would usually cum on each others cocks; when three of them occupied the space, someone usually ended up with seed in their hair. But, their activity was always hidden from view by an clever charm cast by an incredibly smart witch.

…

Hermione had been reading a book from the restricted section again. Of course she had special access because of her immense course load of advanced classes. Her time tuner hung from her neck and she thumbed through the rows of dusty, leather-bound treatises on magic's she'd never even heard of. Very advanced topics. She ultimately stumbled upon a plain looking book, without a title. The edges of its pages were dipped in rose gold, which shinned a pretty pink hue when illuminated by the tendrils of light peaking through the dusty air of the restricted section. She tried to pry the pages open, but the stuck tight.

A script scrawled itself magically across the bottom edge of the page,

_"__Open my knowledge with lovers fingers, plunged first with pleasure's touch."_

Hermione, confused, and almost out of time before her time-tuner self was going to walk around the corner, swept the book into her bag, and left in haste. She would figure out the meaning later.

…

The card game was getting heated, now. Dean had stood up when Seamus threw a dragon to trump his giant spider, accusing him he cheating. Seamus asked,

"what of it?"

And finished with a grin, brandishing his cock by giving it a push through his fly. They were all in various states of undress before bed.

Harry and Ron laughed, both stiffening while sitting in their boxers, and Dean turned red, sitting _only_ in a clean t-shirt, commando as always, his member crept down his thigh, slowly exposing itself from under his long t-shirt.

Neville's bed produced more noises now. Seamus's veins bulged as he straightened through his fly. Everyone was nervously looking around at the various crotches in different stages of arousal.

Then, attention focused on Neville's bed once more.

…

Hermione was sat in a plush, leather, couch. Big enough for one, but she longed to have another to share it with. Her space had been the culmination of almost three month's work. It was perfect.

Firstly, it was lined with books. Hermione had a thing for books. Something about the way they flipped open, their soft, lightly textured pages pressed against her fingers. The smell was the ultimate sensation, it really got her going, especially the smell of an old but rarely used, and seldom opened book. It was virgin territory, and knowing she was absorbing exclusive knowledge was the biggest turn on for her.

The space was filled with these books, on the outside. They couldn't be reached from the inside, the spell wouldn't work like that. She was content enough looking at them all from the inside, their smell still emanating through the magical barriers she so carefully constructed.

She had left an opening, magically sealed but open to air, and light. She could hear and see those on the outside, but no one could see her. And, that was lucky. Hermione sat with her naked back pressed against the leather couch. Her skin stuck with sweat. Her robes were abandoned on the floor, her feet bare to the world. She usually wore a bra, but always left it off on days she was planning on visiting her spot. Her legs were spread, feet up on the shelves, on either side of the magical opening. If it hadn't been magically sealed, Draco Malfoy would have been starring at her wet, pink, folds through a space between the books. He seemed to be looking for something, and for a moment, Hermione thought he could see her. She froze, but then thought better of her incantations, and resumed moving her finger in circles around her clit. Every so often dipping her fingers into her warm, moist and velvety opening, to revive the sliding sensation.

Draco knew it was here just the other day. He had even left the condom in there for when he returned. It had an opening, that he swore was between these two paper-bound books. But, he could see nothing looking inward, he sniffed, and inhaled an intoxicating aroma. Confused and now engorged, he looked around to no avail.

In frustration, he left and vowed to himself to return later. After all, he had already spent too much time in the library. Someone might see him and think he was studying; he was off to the dungeons, and his more routine location to spew, just behind the suit of armor with a chip in its helmet.

Hermione watched Draco leave, almost nervously, after trying to pry open two books, looking directly at where her dripping pussy was on display. She smiled and moaned. Knowing her sounds were safely contained by the magical veil. This was why she created the opening. She reveled in the opportunity to push her cunt so close to a passerby's unknowing face, her smell leaving the room, but everything else kept secret.

She built up her orgasm, she rolled her fingers over her clit, and pushed her other hand hard into her holes. Filling herself with pleasure, she screamed and bucked her hips forward, dripping, but not squirting, down her hands. A wet film covered the couch, as she regained her composure. She smiled as she sunk into the plush, warm, leather. Her pussy wrapped around one of its arms. Giving the couch a few more thrusts, she begrudgingly dressed and turned to leave, before narrowly escaping her time-tuner self, off to jill with moaning myrtle.

She glanced once more at her masterpiece, and noticed a filled rubber in the corner, just below the bottom shelf. She smiled, and thought she knew why Malfoy had come to the spot after all.

…

Neville pushed his mouth over his cock, the head sliding freely past his lips, into his throat. His tongue reaching his balls this time. He paused, deep throating himself, and then released. His cock slid out, sticky with saliva, dripping and pooling under his legs on the bed. He resumed stroking with his hands. Both of them moving in unison over his erection. Pushing and pulling his foreskin as he stroked. Finally, he pulled his foreskin down, past the ridge of his head. His veins were bulging. His skinny arms moving quickly up and down. He threw his head back.

Outside his bed the others were now fully erect. They were intently listening to Neville's sloppy stroking. Harry said to the others,

"Wow, never knew Neville had so much pre-cum in him."

The others grinned, and Dean stood up, now fully erect and standing straight out for the others to see. He removed his shirt.

"I bet I've got more!" He gloated.

Seamus, Harry, and Ron all dropped their remaining shreds of clothing, and came over to stand by Dean. They formed a half circle, facing Neville's bed. They stood shoulder to shoulder to compare cocks and pre-cum.

Harry's stood uncut, angled up toward his body, a shape Ron's hand had long ago become accustomed to stroking. Harry's bush was untrimmed, and covered the base of his cock and balls. His balls were heavy with sperm, waiting to be released. They hung lowest of the group. His cock ranked second in length to Neville, but they didn't know that yet.

Dean's was natural, and long, floppy almost. It was fatter than the rest, and angled downward, heavy with weight. His balls equally heavy, but were closer to his body than Harry's. Dean's foreskin was pulled over

his head, and bunched up past the tip. Seamus looked at it fondly, wanting to dock with him as they often did to keep Seamus wet.

Seamus's cock, though circumcised, was dripping unusually with pleasure. His was stood almost straight out in front, with a little upward tension. The shortest of the bunch, he was still average in length. His hair was trimmed close to his body, making him appear even larger.

Ron stood proudly, finally getting to be with all three of his mates at once. Something he had often thought about before aiming his climax at his own mouth.

His mouth was watering, wanting to take their friendship to the next level. His cock was as hard as ever. The veins on his cock accentuated by his increasingly redder hair surrounding his cock. It was as large as Harry's, almost. It stood the straightest of all, at a perfect 90 degree angle. His foreskin went just short of covering his whole head when fully erect. He was just as thick as Harry, which is what he convinced himself was the reason he liked helping Harry the most. Because it was familiar equipment. Harry knew better.

The four of them, finally stepping toward a more meaningful friendship, had their arms around each other. Each was dripping pre-cum, their cocks hungry for attention. Ron's pre-cum fell to the floor. Creating a visible strand of liquid stretching the length of his legs. Harry's tongue twitched.

Dean and Seamus grabbed each other's arse from behind, as the four of them grabbed each other with their arms linked over shoulders.

Neville moaned.

Four cocks twitched in unison as their fifth mate climaxed behind his curtains. His figure shielded, but not the sounds of his pleasure.

Neville's forehead was splashed with his own seed as he shot over the top of the curtains. His back arched with cock almost flat against his belly. He pulsed 3, 4, 5 times and groaned again. His balls almost sucked into his body as he milked himself to completion, hands sliding slowly over his cock still. He felt the ripples of his ridge, and of his erect tissue beneath his slippery skin. His right hand had reached inside his own hole, pushing on the chestnut-sized pleasure within him.

He spurted again, dribbling out now, and heard applause.

He froze, unable to move both from his orgasm and his shock.

"Did they hear me?" He questioned to himself.

The answer came in Dean's reply,

"Holy Fuck! Did you see it land over the curtains!?"

Neville sank into his bed, coated in his own juice; his bed wet with his passion.

Harry called out, "Oy, get out here ya' git!"

Seamus broke from the four's armlock and ripped Neville's bed curtains down. His thigh wet from Dean's pre-cum which had been dripping and flailing with the bobbing motion of his cock.

Neville, red faced and ashamed, looked up in shock at his roommates. They were all ready for fun, he could see it in their faces. His cock, despite his intense session, started to rise again.

Ron suddenly exclaimed, "I've only ever seen Percy shoot that high before!"

All eyes turned toward him as he realized what he'd revealed, and tuned red enough to blend in with his bush.

…

to be continued.


End file.
